


It Doesn't Happen Much!

by MrsHamill



Series: PWPs [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-05
Updated: 2005-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6054892">It Happens to Everyone</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Happen Much!

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Katbear. This was a 'Plushie Theater' entry at Connexions. Thank you, Claude, for your usual terrific beta.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was in heaven.

He was on his back on the big bed in their bedroom. His legs were draped over his master's shoulders and his ass was filled with said master's cock, which was giving him the reaming of his life. He'd already come twice (there were distinct advantages to being under twenty-five) and his belly was splattered with spunk mixed with sweat from both of them. 

His master, Qui-Gon Jinn, continued to pound into Obi-Wan with the regularity of a metronome. In and out, that lovely, large erection raking over Obi-Wan's prostate twice per beat. With a gasp, Obi-Wan came again. A little bit of fluid, the last of his reservoir, dribbled out of him, joining the mess on his stomach. He clenched his whole body as the waves of climax rolled over him again, and heard Qui-Gon groan and pause in his relentless assault. 

Once the last orgasmic spasms left Obi-Wan, he became utterly boneless with satiation. Bonelessness apparently didn't fit with Qui-Gon's plans, though, since he continued after his short pause, banging away even more firmly. Obi-Wan thought his master had already come, at least once, since his passage seemed to be still well-lubed and after this long, the gel they'd used should have begun to dry up. But still Qui-Gon hammered into him. 

After a few more moments to allow the bliss to subside, Obi-Wan dragged his eyelids open and examined the man above him. Qui-Gon's eyes were closed and his face was red and dripping with sweat. He was propping himself up on his arms, using those and Obi-Wan's bent-back thighs to support himself, and Obi-Wan was beginning to feel a cramp in his legs -- not to mention getting a bit tired of the whole thing. It had been, after all, several hours since they'd begun and he, at least, had had his fun.

He hazarded a quick glance at the bedside clock and blinked in surprise. It was well after midnight, so they'd been going at it since just after eating latemeal. Qui-Gon had cleared the plates off the table and had spread Obi-Wan on it, all but jumping his student, nearly ripping both their tunics in his haste to get to skin. Obi-Wan counted himself lucky that he had already removed his boots before sitting at the table; having them on would have made everything far more difficult.

That first attack appeared to be only an opener to the games in which they were now competing. And Qui-Gon showed no signs at all of even slowing down, much less stopping, despite his or his padawan's orgasms. Yes, Qui-Gon was a strong, virile man, even given his advanced age, but this was ridiculous. And Obi-Wan was beginning to get a little sore, not to mention tired.

"Master?"

His only reply was panting and a muffled grunt as Qui-Gon continued to move. Sweet Force, the man was like a piston and Obi-Wan was the cylinder. 

"Master?!"

"I'm... rather... busy, Padawan..." Qui-Gon gasped out. His hips were still pile-driving.

"I've noticed! Do you think you could... maybe... um, finish... any time soon?"

There was no answer to that one, just more soft grunting noises.

"Master. Please." He was going to be sore as hell tomorrow. Thank the Force all his finals were past and he wouldn't have to sit for any length of time. "Master?"

"Obi-Wan, I'm... uh... oh..." Qui-Gon's arms were straining, trembling, and Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide with no small amount of trepidation. If Qui-Gon lost it, he'd be putting all his not-inconsiderable weight on Obi-Wan's thighs, which were really starting to cramp.

"Master, don't you dare..." he began, just as one of Qui-Gon's arms gave way. "Ow!"

"Sorry... sorry..." Qui-Gon hung his head, the sweat from his exertions dripping onto Obi-Wan's belly to add to the mess already there. He paused in his exertions but did not open his eyes.

"Are you finished?" Obi-Wan tried to keep the frustrated, acerbic tone out of his voice but wasn't in the least bit successful. 

"Uh... no..." Qui-Gon managed to shift sufficiently to reclaim his perch, but it was a near thing. "Obi-Wan... gods ... so good..."

Oh, for Force's sake. This was getting ridiculous. It seemed to be one extreme or the other with Qui-Gon; the last time they'd had problems, Qui-Gon hadn't been able to get it up with a hovercrane. Master Yoda had fixed that little (all right, big) problem (Obi-Wan winced at the memory and quickly put it aside), apparently a little too well...

Obi-Wan frowned. "Master. Have you been speaking with Master Yoda by chance?"

"He's... he's on sabbatical..." Qui-Gon managed to get out. He paused in his relentless pounding long enough to shift positions slightly, giving Obi-Wan's thigh muscles a well-deserved break.

"I know that, but..." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as Qui-Gon began thrusting again. "Master. This is absurd. Haven't you come yet?"

"Well... yes..." Qui-Gon began puffing, and his face got even redder.

A sneaking suspicion began to gnaw at Obi-Wan. "You've already come, at least once, haven't you? And you're still hard -- obviously." He glanced at the clock again, this time noticing a small pill container near it. "Master..."

"Obi-Wan, please... I just... oh..." The tangential discourse should have been working to soften Qui-Gon's erection; at least Obi-Wan would have thought it would. It was his favorite method of getting out of having his master fuck him when he was too tired or sore for whatever reason. Getting Qui-Gon talking was the same as getting Qui-Gon distracted, and a distracted Qui-Gon was generally a soft Qui-Gon. Virile, yes, but damn old too -- Obi-Wan could count on one hand the number of times Qui-Gon _hadn't_ been able to get it up when Obi-Wan wanted it, so methods of distraction were useful. Especially since the gods-damned Code forbade padawans fucking their masters. 

Frowning, unable to see the label on the small pill bottle, Obi-Wan demanded, "Did you take something?"

"Take something?" Lame answer. Extremely lame and telling, to boot.

"You did take something, didn't you?" 

"Uh..." Qui-Gon's loins were _still_ girding the hell out of Obi-Wan's ass, and Obi-Wan was becoming angry. 

"I can't believe you! What were you thinking?"

"That I have a sexy padawan and wanted to fuck him through the mattress?" Qui-Gon resolutely closed his eyes, avoiding the accusatory stare from his padawan as his hips continued their dance.

"At this rate, we should hit the sub-basements within the next half-hour!"

"Now, Obi-Wan..."

"What did you take, Qui-Gon? And when?"

"Well... it was with dinner, it's supposed to be taken with food..."

"Dinner was over four hours ago, Master. And you didn't answer my question. What did you take?"

"Um..." 

Qui-Gon was doing his best to get Obi-Wan more interested in the horizontal procedures, but Obi-Wan had come three times in the space of four hours, and his libido was in happy hibernation mode. "I think you need to stop." Qui-Gon grimaced but kept thrusting. "I said--"

"I know, I know... I can't, Obi-Wan, I just can't... gods... please..."

"If you ever want a chance to fuck me again, you'll stop now. Before my legs fall off and my asshole turns into a crater!" 

Whimpering, his face reddening even more, Qui-Gon's movements slowed, becoming jerkier. 

"Now, Qui-Gon."

With one last, pathetic noise, Qui-Gon managed to stop thrusting. He didn't pull out, though, and gave Obi-Wan a pleading look. Obi-Wan was having none of it, however. His legs were strong and he was motivated -- in short order, he had pushed Qui-Gon off to the side and stretched out with a very relieved sigh. "That's better."

He glanced over at Qui-Gon, who was curling up around himself on the bed. "Stop that." Qui-Gon's eyes were tightly shut and his face was still red. Frowning, Obi-Wan snatched the pill bottle from the bedside table and examined it. "Levitatit? You took Levitatit?!"

"It's... it's just a... a... you know, a helper. Sort of."

"This is the stuff they advertise all over the infonet! It's supposed to be a controlled substance!"

"Oh, no, it's safe... it's over the counter..." Qui-Gon winced and folded himself even tighter.

"You're still hard, aren't you? You call that 'safe'?" He peered at the fine print on the bottle. "'In the unlikely event you have an erection for more than four hours, see your healer.'" He glared at Qui-Gon, but it was ineffectual since Qui-Gon's eyes were still tightly closed. "I'm calling the healers."

"No! No! Please, Obi-Wan..." His eyes were open, at least, and Obi-Wan almost relented at the pain he saw in them. Almost.

"If you don't want to go to the healers, you're going to have to purge this. Now. Because I think your blood pressure is probably as high as the west tower, and I'm sure it's not healthy."

Qui-Gon looked away from Obi-Wan's eyes. "I... I don't think I can," he mumbled.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. You're a master, Qui-Gon Jinn. You can purge this substance." Qui-Gon gave him another pitiful look. "I'll help." This was ridiculous. Qui-Gon was acting... acting like a padawan! Ever since Master Yoda had come over to 'help' with that problem Qui-Gon had had... And that made Obi-Wan just angrier. "Master Yoda. This is all his fault." That aggravating, meddlesome, infuriating...

"What?"

"Never mind. Trance, Qui-Gon." They were so attuned to each other that it was easy for Obi-Wan to help his master slip into a trance state to purge the medication. What had Qui-Gon been thinking? Wait, it was obvious that he hadn't thought. Not at all. Or rather, he was thinking with his little head -- although it seemed the little one might actually contain more common sense than Qui-Gon's brain, at least at the moment.

Once it was obvious that Qui-Gon was in the process of purging the medication, Obi-Wan gently withdrew from the trance state and sat up in bed. He quickly discovered that was a mistake. Rolling to one side, he contemplated the bottle he held in his hand, while a smile that felt quite nasty covered his face. Perhaps Master Yoda would appreciate such medication -- after all, the damn troll was responsible for his master's latest round of priapism, and while _he_ was possibly happy with it, it was getting old, fast. Obi-Wan was having trouble walking, lately, and sitting was a pain, literally, in the ass. He would be happy with a bit more moderation. Quite a bit more moderation.

Not that he didn't love Qui-Gon, it was just that constantly being on the bottom was becoming, well, wearing. At least on certain parts of his anatomy. And Obi-Wan was a top, dammit. He was much happier pitching rather than catching. And Force, but he would love to pitch with Qui-Gon.

Within twenty minutes, Qui-Gon had managed to substantially purge the Levitatit from his bloodstream. He opened his eyes with a much-relieved sigh. 

"Is that better?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Much. Thank you, Padawan." 

"Now, let's talk about this... this alleged medication and how you're never going to take it again." Obi-Wan had had a lot of exposure to a Stern Master Face so he was able to copy it quite well. Since, apparently, it was as close as he would come to topping his master... "This was _dangerous_ , Master. You could have done yourself -- and me! -- a great deal of harm by taking it. Why the hell..."

"I didn't think it would be that bad, Obi-Wan, it was just a... a helper. Just in case. You know." Qui-Gon was obviously trying to be coy and it obviously wasn't working.

"No, I don't know." Obi-Wan was certainly not going to make it easy on his master.

"Obi-Wan, I'm much older than you." Now he was trying to be rational, and that wouldn't work either. "I need all the help I can get in keeping up with you. I want to keep up with you. I... I..."

"Qui-Gon, getting a hard-on isn't the be-all and end-all of the universe, you know." The sheer ridiculousness of the situation was really beginning to get to Obi-Wan; it was a version of 'the talk' and the roles should have been reversed. Obi-Wan felt like he was talking sternly to an initiate, not persuading his extremely mature master. "There are many other things that are just as good. Just being with you is important to me. It doesn't matter if you can't get--"

"I can. I can always get it up, Obi-Wan, especially for you." Now Qui-Gon was beginning to sound petulant, and Obi-Wan finally reached his limit. 

"Dammit, that's enough. Qui-Gon Jinn, this preoccupation you have with sex is getting absurd. If it weren't for that blasted old green troll, this wouldn't have happened." He glared at his master. "You will _never_ use this stuff again, do you hear me? Never."

Qui-Gon's eyes grew wide and he blinked in what seemed to be surprise, but might have been something else. "Yes, Obi-Wan," he replied, meekly. 

Frowning, Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a suspicious look. That was much too easy. "I'm serious, Qui-Gon. You must promise me you will never use it again." 

"I promise," Qui-Gon said hastily. 

He appeared sincere and that made Obi-Wan both more suspicious and slightly confused. Then he glanced down at Qui-Gon's body and saw his erection -- which had subsided considerably during Qui-Gon's healing trance -- had partially returned. What the...

With a shock of surprise, Obi-Wan realized it was because of how he was talking to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon Jinn was a submissive! Or at least enough of a submissive to enjoy being, er, 'mastered.' To test his theory, Obi-Wan pointed down to the renewed hard-on he saw. "Put that thing away before you poke someone's eye out," he said firmly.

Immediately, the erection faded, but not completely. Yes, that did seem to be the case, and what a terrible pickle it put them in. Obi-Wan could do wonders with Qui-Gon, if only the damn Code didn't interfere! Another thing to lay at the claws of that old gnome.

If only there were... he eyed the bottle he still held. "Master," he said slowly, "is Master Yoda the most senior master in the Temple?"

"Well, no, I think Yaddle is older than he is. Why?"

Obi-Wan gave the pill bottle an experimental rattle as he mentally went over what was in his toy chest in his closet. He was certain he still had that ten inch strap-on. "Oh... no reason. Now, let me explain to you what is going to happen with our love life from now on..."

end


End file.
